Will You Still Love Me?
by SofiaMalfoyx
Summary: What if the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy, is keeping a life-threatening secret and he chooses the Head Girl, Hermione Granger, to aid him in his mission to improve his life for the better? Will all be well or will their personalities cause too much of a riot? Draco x Hermione. Post-War. Rated M for Language/Sexual Themes/Some Violence.
1. Chapter I: Prologue

A/N: Hey everybody! I hope you like this Fanfiction. A bit of a back story, I was bored one day and decided to investigate some Harry Potter theories and I found one that I was instantly drawn to (I can't tell you because it will spoil it). I am definitely not going to believe it unless J.K Rowling confirms it, but I figured it would be a tragic yet beautiful factor to add to a love story. I have been storing it in the back of my mind for a while now and finally I have written down all my ideas and gathered together is story for you.

By the way, the title is not from Lana Del Rey's _Young and Beautiful._ Although I listen to that song almost daily, I promise it is original and one of my close friends helped me come up with it as a matter of fact, and also with some of the ideas for this story too x

 ***Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter world or any of its characters. All rights to the wonderful J.K Rowling and Warner Bros.***

Anyhow, please leave reviews! It would mean the world to me!

Thank you, and enjoy :)

* * *

 ** _Will You Still Love Me?_ Dramione Fanfiction**

 **~ Chapter I: Prologue ~**

Midnight petals of water splash on the high windows of the Hogwarts Library, cracks of thunder going off in the far distance like firecrackers in the sky.

 _Perhaps near Hogsmeade,_ she decides.

She sits by one of the foggy windows in the far corner, drowning in the dim candlelight. Her brown, bushy hair covers her eyes as she buries deep into the world of literature. The Head Girl is drained, stressed to the absolute limit; memories and nightmares of the war playing an important role in her failing attempts to study.

Quiet footsteps bring the young witch back to her distressing reality. Her lightly freckled nose pokes out from the mountain of published work surrounding her, her amber eyes scanning her ill-lit hiding place.

"Typical, Granger," his voice scoffs from behind her, his breath tickling her neck.

The Gryffindor leaps in her seat, the Head Boy closing her lips with one cold, pale hand, turning her squeal into a hushed mumble.

"Merlin," he sighs, "I'm not going to murder you, Granger, calm down!"

Hermione Granger finally releases herself from the young Slytherin, slapping his hand away.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" Draco Malfoy exclaims, stroking his now very crimson hand.

"There was no need to give me such a fright, Malfoy," she snaps back.

"I was waiting for you to notice my presence," he explains, rolling his stormy grey eyes, "but you obviously didn't hear me!"

"You could have coughed," she suggests angrily. "Cleared your throat or something! Not fu – I mean ... uh ... not –"

"Oh! Was the 'Goody-Two-Shoes Granger' about to say 'Fuck'?" Draco raises an eyebrow, his well-known smirk on the wizard's pointy face (Hermione wishes she could rip it off and feed it to a Blast-Ended Skrewt). "How the Pathetic Potter and your boyfriend Weaselbee would be extremely disappointed in you, Granger."

Hermione slowly rises from her seat, grasping her wand in her robe pocket.

"Ron. Is. Not. My. _Boyfriend!"_

Draco knows almost immediately that he is meddling with her emotions, but he is proud to say he rather enjoys 'Driving her up the bloody wall!" as she would describe it; her scarlet cheeks, her deathly glare, her clenched fists.

 _Damn,_ Draco's smirk enlarges.

"Oh no! Did the Weasel dump you for that Brown girl?" the Slytherin imitates a pout. "Such a shame. You must be so heartbroken and jealous. I can't imagine –"

Sharp, excruciating pain shoots through the left side of his platinum blonde head of hair, spreading through to the other side, causing his head to throb. Draco stumbles backwards, a gasp of pain escapes his thin lips as he cautiously opens his eyes; steal grey meeting honey brown.

The Gryffindor witch appears furious. She holds one of her very heavy books in her hands, her knuckles white from gripping far too hard.

"Now, now, no need to crack a fit," Draco says, holding his hands up high to surrender. "But I have to say, Granger, I love making you angry."

The Head Girl glares at the Head Boy's triumphant smirk, sighing angrily as she slides back onto her chair.

"You upset with me now, Granger?"

"No!" she retorts, not taking her eyes away from her Herbology textbook. "I am just a bit ... frustrated."

"Sexually frustrated?" Draco asks, a seductive shimmer in his eyes as he sits across from the irritated witch.

Hermione ignores his rude comment, knowing it is much easier than bickering about it.

"Why are you here, Malfoy?" she asks tiredly. "What do you want?"

"Well," he starts, suddenly sounding almost business-like, "I want to ask a favour."

Hermiones lets out a scoff.

"I never thought I'd see the day," she comments, "that you ask a favour from a Mudblood."

The Slytherin wizard tenses, hiding a cringe at the sound of that revolting insult. He did not understand how Hermione could think so lowly about herself. Yes, he used to remind her every opportunity he had that she was filth, but to be honest with himself, he never believed a word that escaped his mouth in his younger years at Hogwarts.

"You know I never meant any of that, right?" he sighes, his eyes studying the witch's features.

To Draco, the 'War Heroine' is not even close to filth. She is, even though he doubts he will ever admit it to her, breath-taking; thick, luscious hair he believes was never too bushy, eyes of gold along with thick lashes, cheekbones so nicely risen no contouring is ever needed, and lastly, lips of rich cherries; so plump and smooth.

"Malfoy!" Hermione hisses, bringing the lovesick boy out of his trance. "What are you staring at?"

"Your face," he says simply, shrugging his firm shoulders. "Isn't it obvious, Granger?"

Hermione massages the bridge of her nose; she really does not want to tolerate the Slytherin's attitude tonight.

"And yes," he says, "I am asking a favour from you. Surprised?"

"I just don't understand you, Malfoy," Hermione sighs. "One minute you hate my guts and the next ..."

"Look, just ignore all the shit that happened between us in our previous years," says Draco. "I really need your help."

"I cannot just forget about all of that easily," she explains. "Besides, why should I help?"

The young wizard ponders on her question for a moment. He is not exactly expecting this response. Patience is definitely not his forte and he is growing more imatient by the minute. Draco told himself he would leave this unless he really needs to use it, but the Slytherin is exhausted and wants to sleep well.

Hermione gives up on studying and figures she should return back to their common room. As she packs away her books, Draco begins to panic and it slips out his mouth before he can delay himself.

"Please, Granger."

Hermione stills, almost dropping her books. Her eyes are wide as she stares at Draco, bewildered.

"W-What did you just say?" her voice is barely a whisper.

Draco furrows his blonde eyebrows.

"Uh ... I said, 'Please'," he tells her.

As Hermione stares at Draco, the witch takes a moment to examine his looks and notices features she never thought of before; his hair is no longer gelled back, but is now lightly combed with a few loose strands covering his crystal eyes. She trails her eyes down his pointed nose, his chap-free lips and sharp jawline.

Now Hermione seems to understand why majority of the girls at Hogwarts fall for this 'Sex God'.

"Like what you see, Granger?"

Hermione merrily rolls her eyes, hiding the light shade of pink washing over her cheeks.

"So, what is it you want me to do, Malfoy?" she asks, desperate to change the subject.

"I can't exactly tell you now," Draco says quietly, looking around for any sign of a presence. "Somebody might hear us."

"Besides us, I don't think anybody visits the library in the middle of the night –"

"Still," he interrupts, "I don't want to risk it, because if anybody found out ..."

Hermione sighs irritably.

"Do you have a free period after lunch tomorrow?" the Gryffindor witch asks, looking up at the taller boy.

"Yes?"

"Is that an answer or a question?" Hermione inquires. "Oh, surely you remember your timetable by now!"

"Not everybody is like you, Granger," Draco sneers. "Not everybody knows their timetables like the back of their hands."

"Do you have a free period or not?" she snaps.

"Alright, alright, I do!"

"Good," says Hermione. "If you are so desperate for my help, meet me in our common room tomorrow at the very start of our free period. If you are not there, I cannot say I will have the decency to wait for you. There are plenty of assignments I could be using that time for –"

"Fine!" Draco barks. "I won't be late ..."

The young wizard stands, awkwardly looking at Hermione who is staring right at him, biting her bottom lip anxiously.

 _Oh Merlin, she biting her fucking lip,_ Draco thinks aggressively, mentally cursing himself when goosebumps erupt on his fair skin.

"See you soon, Granger," he mumbles miserably, turns and begins sauntering out the Library, until he hears her voice.

"Malfoy, wait!"

Draco rapidly spins on his heel, noticing Hermione is standing much closer than before. There is now only a single foot between the two students and Draco's breath is caught in his throat. Draco swears he sees Hermione glance at his parted lips, licking her own.

'Did you – did you really mean what you said?" she asks innocently.

For the 'Brightest Witch of Her Age', the Head Girl seems quite oblivious about how she effects the Head Boy.

"W-What?" he stutters, almost shivering as her breath lightly kisses his cheeks when she shuffles closer.

"Do you really think I'm a Mu ..." Hermione trails off.

Draco watches how her eyes are hiding sorrow buried deep within. He wishes he could help her unleash it, become the happy Hermione she deserves to be, but instead he simply says, "Goodnight, Granger," before leaving the Library as soon as he can.

Hermione stares at the empty chair the Slytherin was sitting on minutes ago before gathering up her things and leaving the place she feels most at home.

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A/N: I know this is short but it is just a Prologue. Hopefully the chapters a longer and I apologies in advance if they are not.

I should be updating some time in this week, but in the mean time please favourite and leave reviews! Thank you x

See you soon with the next chapter :)


	2. Chapter II: Wolfsbane Potion

A/N: I wrote this chapter straight after the prologue but it took me forever to edit it, so that is why I didn't upload straight away. I thought it would be interesting if I used roman numerals instead of numbers, don't ask I just love how they look in novels.

From now on this story will either be in Draco or Hermione's POV (It tells you at the start of the chapter). I might make it that some chapters are in third POV but it probably won't be for some time, if I do end up doing it.

Thank you to those amazing people out there who have favorited/followed my story so far. It is much appreciated! x

I hope you enjoy this chapter, and just a warning Draco swears a bit in his thoughts, I believe he would a lot ...

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 **~ Chapter II: Wolfsbane Potion ~  
**

 _DRACO'S POV_

This is going to sound rather pathetic, but attaining a descent night's sleep is near impossible when _she_ and _I_ are only separated by a bloody bathroom! Yes, Granger and I share the same common room ...

When I pondered many weeks ago about accepting the position of Head Boy, for once I completely forgot about Granger and smirked to myself, thinking about how entertaining and how important it would be. The delightful thought of deducting points from far too many chubby Gryffindor first-years, or any Gryffindorks in general, was so satisfying that I replied to Professor McGonagall straight away.

Mother is still surprised at how I managed to achieve this excellent position, seeing as my current reputation could be tweaked to a certain extent. Clearly, Father is far too busy rotting away in his cell at Azkaban to acknowledge Mother and I still exist. Despite the man being my Father, I do not show or feel any remorse referring to his absence, which is definitely not to my dismay.

It feels like Mother is always crying these days. Yes, the war was tough - fuck, it was tough - but I do not spend my days weeping and sobbing about how terrible my life once was, and could have turned out to be. Well, at least I do not repeat these actions in front of others. I do feel awfully guilty for leaving Mother to herself at the Manor, but if I do wish to improve the way I am today, a good education will never hurt. Bollocks, I sound like a Ravenclaw ...

It saddens me that Mother can love Father so strongly to cry over his hideous soul. It leaves me rather confused how she can even have a soft spot for him, I certainly do not! He is vile; cruel! Father does and never did deserve our loyalty! I refuse to tell Mother this, seeing as it will certainly not aid her state of mind, but I wish I could refer to Father as Lucius; he never felt like my Father from the very beginning.

The only worthy factor of Father leaving for Azkaban, is Mother is no longer controlled by that madman. I can tell plenty of weight has been lifted off her small shoulders, despite being a wreak.

I realise now that I am more than grateful I am not in that revolting cell with Father. During my extremely nerve-wracking trial at the Ministry, Potter gave enough evidence to convince Kingsley Shacklebolt I am innocent. Still to this day, I have no bloody idea why Potter stopped me from attending Azkaban.

Another one of Mother and I's post-war experiences that surprised us the most, was my oldest Auntie, Andromeda Tonks, contacted Mother and I months ago. I had only met Andromeda once by accident at Diagon Alley when I was still very young. Since she contacted Mother, she has visited the Manor along with her Grandson, Teddy. I am and never will be a supporter of babies, but surprisingly I quite enjoy spending time with my second Cousin. All I ever knew about my Auntie Andromeda was she became a 'Blood Traitor' and married a Muggleborn. Our family disowned her and despite being far to young to understand what I was doing, I still feel guilt at the pit of my stomach every time she visits.

I would have despised life itself if that have happened to me, which makes the whole situation with Granger much more difficult. I do not want to be disowned, especially by Mother ...

I am being pulled away from my thoughts as the heavy rain outside stops, back to the present in my room in our common room. I am lying in my Slytherin-themed four-poster, the emerald green sheets wrapping nice and tight around my nearly bare body, if it were not for my boxers.

I silently thank Merlin with gratitude that the storm has discontinued.

I detest myself for admitting this, but thunderstorms petrify me. After everything that happened with Voldemort, the blinding cracks of lightening chased by the deafening rumbles of thunder remind me tragically of the Torture Curse cast my way, the Killing Curse eliminating my allies ... Every innocent soul I watched be killed has messed with my mind. Fucking thanks -

My current thoughts pause when I hear shuffling in the corridor, travelling down the steps to the common room.

Fucking hell, Granger!

Almost every night this week she has been keeping this up; pottering around our common room, calmly sipping tea while scrolling through boring arse novels. It appears she either does not realise or does not care that majority of the time she wakes me up. Yep, she does not care. Why would she even care about me in the first pla-?

I come close to jumping out of my skin when a loud rumble of thunder causes my ears to ring. The bloody storm is back! Why, Merlin? Why?

I desperately do not want to be alone anymore. Bloody hell, I sound like a fucking five-year-old.

I scoot out of my warm duvet, lazily pull on one of my baggy Slytherin Quidditch shirts and snatch my wand from my bedside table. After the war, I tend to bring my wand with me everywhere I go, even if I just visit the kitchens during the night at the Manor. I notice now it has turned into an unstoppable habit. Great!

I cautiously open my door and squint at the sudden candle light.

Blimey, Granger, how much light do you want?

I grumpily make my way down the cold steps, peering in front of me to see the back of Granger's head behind the brown armchair she is seated in. Her bushy hair reminds me of a glorious lion's mane, and I mentally slap myself when butterflies are sent to my stomach.

Draco, just stop!

"Granger?" My sleepy voice mixes with the heavy rain bucketing down outside as Granger turns to look at me.

Those eyes; I am instantly lost in those rich honey pools of life - fuck!

"Malfoy," she greets me sternly.

I take my eyes away from her instantly, trailing down to her lips in a straight line, clearly uninterested. I look down at the ground, knowing one more glance at her lips and I will lose all self-control I have, which is slowly slipping through my fingertips like water.

"What are you doing?" I ask her, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground. Never before have I been so interested in the mysterious patterns in the carpet ...

"That doesn't concern you," she replies merely, taking a quiet sip of her tea.

I finally pluck up all the courage a Slytherin can muster to look at her. She is now staring at the fireplace, watching the flames roar and eat at the wood -

Another loud rumble causes me to flinch. Thank Merlin Granger was not looking my way ...

Fear rushes through me as I am reminded why I feel so afraid, and I need to see her. I need to see her face again. Blimey, I am acting like that fucking Muggle, what is his name ... Romeo? But it is one of the few things that can comfort me, although it seems to do the opposite at the moment. But I guess it does not hurt to try.

Come on, Draco! Get a grip!

I walk over to the fireplace, pretending to gaze at the magnificent flames. I sneak a quick glance at her and find my eyes are stuck to her like superglue. I watch in awe as the flames dance in her irises, my mouth threatening to fall ajar and is now watering -

Watering? Fucking hell -

"What?"

I realise then Granger is staring at me, confusion is plastered all over her beautiful features.

Merlin, why do I have to describe her like that?

"What?" I say back, slouching in the armchair next to me.

I force myself not to cower down when another loud rumble of thunder fills the room. Granger does not seem bothered by it, or does not even notice it at all. Fucking lucky -

"Malfoy," she begins to say, "can we discuss what we were talking about earlier? It is not like we have anything else to talk about ..."

I contemplate her question for a moment. To be honest, I am in no mood to discuss this right now, but anything to have a conversation with Granger.

Oh Merlin, help me ...

"Uh - well ... I guess we can," I sigh. With a quick flick of my wand, an elegant wine glass filled with Firewhisky is placed in my grasp. Granger looks wearily at me, but I really need the energy to talk about this now.

"So?" she looks at me expectantly, tucking a lock of her luscious hair behind her ear.

I wish she would stop doing that ... _it distracts me ..._

"Well, uh," I speak awkwardly. "I am not sure where to begin but I need your help."

"I know that," she says, taking another sip of tea. "Continue."

"Have you heard of Wolfsbane Potion?" I ask her.

I am willing to bet she does, but I do not want to make this conversation more awkward than it has to be.

"Of course," she tells me, as if it is an obvious fact.

Well, considering her intelligence, it appears to be ...

"Uh - well ..." Why am I so speechless? "You know a lot about Potions, don't you?"

Granger's face drops almost immeditately, clearly understanding what I am trying to get out of her.

"You want me to make Wolfsbane Potion?" she asks, her eyebrows knitting together in thought after I nod. "What for?"

"That doesn't concern you," I say like she did before, getting a disapproving look from Granger. "But seriously, would you be able to do it?"

"I would like to know what it is going to be used for first," she says simply.

"Why?" I ask her. "It's not like there is going to be any bad side effects or anything -"

"There _can_ be," Granger points out, "if the drinker is not a Werewolf, so I've heard ..."

"Why does it matter?" I snap. "Just tell me if you can or not?"

"Can you not make it yourself?" she inquires, taking her last sip of tea and gently placing it on the coffee table between us. "As far as I know Potions is your best subject."

"Yes," I say, looking at her intently, "but I have never made Wolfsbane Potion in my bloody life -"

"Who says I have -?"

"- and I know you know what ingredients are needed, right?"

Granger stares at me for a moment, clearly confused between all the thoughts that race through that pretty little head of hers. I can tell she is perhaps ... flattered that I admit she is smart, seeing as I never liked to highlight that well-known trait she possesses.

"I - I guess," she mumbles, looking down shyly before her eyes connect with mine. "But where on earth am I supposed to get them from, Malfoy?"

"The Potion's Classroom," I tell her. "Clearly it's obvious, Granger -"

"You want me to steal the ingredients from Professor Slughorn?"

"Of course I would take them for you," I say. "I can't risk you blabbing if you get caught. _And_ ... it's not stealing. It's borrowing. I plan to return the ingredients once you've finished."

"Yeah, the empty bottles," she sighs, running her fingers through her hair _again!_

Granger, stop fucking doing that!

"Please," I say, shocking Granger once again, "at least think about it."

"How many vials do you want me to make?" Granger asks after minutes and I mean _the longest minutes of my life._

"Well ... I realised that Wolfsbane Potion takes a long while to perfect," I tell her. "I was hoping you could keep on making it until you get it right, then teach me."

"How long?" she bites her lip anxiously.

"Surely you know the answer to that, Granger?" I smirk, intertwining my fingers and resting them in my lap.

"I was hoping I was wrong," she says miserably.

That is a change ...

"So," she continues, "for months you want me to make this potion constantly until I get it perfect?"

I merely nod, focusing my gaze back to the fire.

"Why should I do it?" she asks, my head turning to look at her again. "What will you give me in return, Malfoy?"

"Well," I say, trying to hide the second smirk growing across my lips, "I have noticed lately your grades and participation in class is not as good as it used to be. You seem a little ... stressed perhaps." Granger glares at me, looking like she is mentally slitting my throat. It does not surprise me. "So I am offering you my help. If you make this Wolfsbane Potion top notch, I will help you get your grades back up -"

"I don't need your help!" she snaps, clearly agitated. "I am doing fine!"

"I don't think 'fine' defines dropping from an Outstanding to an Acceptable student like that," I say, clicking my fingers. "You need help, Granger, don't deny it!"

Granger looks at me depressingly. I cannot say how much it upsets me to see her so worked up about something as shit as school.

"O-Okay," she finally says, looking to meet my eyes again as I try and hide my concern for her. "I-I'll do it ..."

I knew that would convince her.

I nod in a kind manner, rising from my seat.

"When do I start?" Granger asks as she rises from her own armchair, flicking her wand at her empty mug which disappears.

"First thing after dinner tomorrow," I tell her. "I'll collect the ingredients and equipment during the day. You can begin making it then, if you want."

Granger nods at me, making her way up the stone steps. I slowly saunter behind her, finding myself perspiring when I get too close to her. Bloody hell ...

"Well," she sighs as we reach the top of the steps. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

I watch as she closes her bedroom door behind her, her long brown hair gliding behind as she gracefully carries herself. I swear on my life she is an angel come down from heaven.

So damn cliche!

When I return back to my room, take off my shirt and climb under the duvet, I do not even notice the storm outside has gotten worse, nor care. Granger is not leaving my mind. It is nothing but Granger, Granger, _Granger!_

I place my wand back on my nightstand with a heavy sigh, resting my head on my pillow. I close my eyes and all I can see is her ... smiling, but not just at anybody, at _me._

I wish Granger would smile at me. But, I bet with my life she never will ...

I cannot help but smirk to myself as I think of my current position. I finally get to spend some alone time with Granger. Not with Potter, Weaselbee or any other of her idiotic friends tagging along like lost puppies. Of course that is not the only reason I want her to help me with this Potion, but it is definitely high on the list of reasons why. Obviously I am too cowardly to ever admit this to her. I wish I had the guts to ...

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A/N: I hope you like reading the story from the characters' point of views. I find writing in Draco's POV very amusing and it adds a little light to dark days. The next chapter I am planning to write in Hermione's POV. I think it is very important, in any scenario, two have two sides of the story. Especially with such unique, strong characters like Draco and Hermione.

I don't really have anything else important to say. I hope you are all well and thank you for taking your time to read this chapter. I'm looking forward to uploading the next one as soon as I can.

See you soon :)


	3. Chapter III: Room Full of Slytherins

A/N: Hello again! I am finally writing in Hermione's POV which is obviously very different to Draco's.

By the way, this story is written in Australian English, so some of the spelling might be different.

 _I'm sorry if Hermione's thoughts or her state of mind effect you in anyway_ _ **(just a trigger warning).**_ _I don't believe she is depressed but I feel she would face a bit of trauma after the war, and I really wanted Draco and Hermione to support each other physically_ and _mentally in this fanfic. Both of them I feel would be going through roughly the same things emotionally after the war and I feel that is an important factor for their behaviour too._

 _Besides that, please enjoy and don't forget to favourite and review! :)_

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 **~ Chapter III: Room Full of Slytherins ~  
**

 _HERMIONE'S POV_

I am awoken by the peaceful sound of birds whistling in the trees surrounding the Hogwarts castle. I only managed a few hours of rest; three hours and forty minutes to be exact. For once in my life, I am not looking forward to the school day. My grades are terrible at this moment in time; whenever I attempt to study I end up getting extremely frustrated.

Gosh, Hermione, stop being a fool!

I slip out of my bed, groaning as I run my fingers through my very knotty hair, getting tangled in the process. Crookshanks, my beloved cat, lay on his bed in the corner, licking at his ginger fur as I collect my uniform and head towards the bathroom. I jump in surprise when my feet come in contact with the icy cold floor tiles, and I hope it is not worse when winter comes.

I effortlessly turn the handle of the shower and gaze at the water that eagerly rushes of out the shower head, warming up rapidly. I check to see if the door to Malfoy's room is locked before I strip out of my pyjamas, place them in a neat pile and step under the calm flow of water. I sigh with pleasure as it cascades down my bare skin, cleansing me.

While I rub soap in my palms and rub it over my body, I end up pondering about how I managed to survive the war. It has been almost half a year and I still cannot believe I made it out alive, especially when all the Death Eaters wanted people like me dead; Vol - Vol ...

My body starts trembling as suddenly the water rushing over my body feels cold. I cannot even think about his name without feeling sick to my stomach.

I do regret taking the position of Head Girl, which confuses me. Yes, being in the same living space as Malfoy is irritating, but I am not going to forget about school completely over some stupid ferret! My guess is that the war has deeply effected me; scared me even. Frightening memories haunt my dreams nightly, and occasionally I catch myself thinking about all the innocent lives lost, my cheeks stained from unknown tears. It is starting to take over my daily mood too. Finding the reason for doing anything is getting quite difficult to find and my performance and co-operation is decreasing rapidly. Some of the professors, especially Professor McGonagall, have been asking me if everything is alright, but instead of telling them the truth, I merely nod.

I unknowingly stare down at the scar imprinted on my left arm. _Mudblood._

Each day it begins to slowly fade away, but I do not think I will ever forget it was there.

My eyes swell with tears, but I fight them back, reminding myself that I am strong.

After realising I have been in the shower for long enough, I rinse the soap off my body and step out onto the fluffy floor mat. I slip on my underwear and my matching bra, my nylon black tights, grey pleated skirt, white blouse, Gryffindor cardigan, and one of my Gryffindor ties. I finally step into my shiny black flats and head back into my room, neatly placing my pyjamas on the scarlet armchair in the corner. I grab my hairbrush from my desk and attempt to tame my bushy head of hair. No luck at all ... I end up throwing my hairbrush across the floor with frustration, snatching my wand from my bedside table and flicking it above my head to straighten my 'birds nest'. I watch with a triumphant grin as my hair forms into a loose braid ending just below my shoulders, a few loose strands framing my face.

I only started applying makeup on this year, mainly due to the constant taunting during the war has left me slightly self-conscious at times. I do not usually bother about beauty, but today, for some reason, I want to feel descent looking. I do not wear it to cover-up so much, it is mainly to enhance my natural features that nobody cares to notice. I apply the amount I have been wearing each morning for the past few weeks; powder, blusher and mascara. I spray vanilla perfume on my neck and wrists, mixing well with my cinnamon shampoo.

I toss my book bag over my shoulder and make my down to the Great Hall for a quick breakfast.

Walking out of the portrait hole and strolling down the empty corridor, I hang my head low, watching my feet as they take me to my destination, one step at a time. I do not like looking up at the corridors as I saunter through them. It never fails to remind me how some were half-blown up, blocked by debris and injured students.

As I finally make it to the crowded Great Hall, I am breath taken by how beautiful it looks this morning; the just-risen sun makes the room appear almost golden and I cannot help but smile as I take my seat next to Ginny and Harry in the middle of a 'cuddle-session', Ron sitting across from us with disgust.

"You seen very happy today, Mione," Harry comments, smiling as he rests his head on Ginny's. "Something good happen?"

"No," I shake my head, grabbing a few slices of toast and spreading jam over the top. "Nothing ..."

"How are you, anyway?" Ginny asks, trying to act casual. "I've noticed you've been a little _off_ lately."

"Everything's fine," I tell her, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "Trust me, Ginny."

The red-head sighs, slowly eating her cornflakes. For weeks Ginny has been asking me over and over again what is troubling me. Harry and Ron have noticed as well, but only Ginny is acting like she is concerned.

"What lessons do we have today?" Harry asks no one in particular, scrolling through one of Ginny's magazines about her favourite Quidditch team, the Holyhead Harpies.

"I have Arithmancy this morning, then just before lunch us three have Potions," I say, looking up in thought as I remember my timetable. "The rest of the afternoon we have a double free period."

"Great," Ron grunts under his breath. "Potions with the bloody Slytherins. _And_ you have Arithmancy with 'em, don't you?"

"They're not so bad anymore, Ronald," I reassure him. "Some of them are trying to make an effort. Zabini and Parkinson smile at us when we walk down the corridors, they haven't remarked about my blood-status and neither has Malfoy, to be completely honest."

"He's still a prick," says Harry. "At least Zabini and Parkinson you can hold a civil conversation with for more than three seconds."

I look across the hall at the Slytherin table and am instantly pulled into a stormy pair of eyes; Malfoy is staring right at me. He seems to be deep in thought, biting his lower lip. I furrow my eyebrows, not taking my eyes away from his stare. He smirks at my confusion and throws me a wink before returning to a conversation with his dark-haired, pale-skinned classmate, Theodore Nott.

I merely roll my eyes, ignoring his stupid acts. I notice Ginny is watching Malfoy curiously before she turns to look at me, giving me a quizzical stare.

I quickly eat my toast and drink my pumpkin juice, eager to leave before Ginny can ask anymore questions.

"I'll see you guys later," I say as I grab my book bag and rush out of the Great Hall.

I quickly make my way to the Arithmancy classroom, desperate for someplace by myself. I was thinking of visiting the library, but I would most likely have not enough time. Professor Vector lets me in the Arithmancy classroom early anyway, as like every Friday morning, and allows me to read in the back corner while she marks work in her office.

Just as I get settled and begin reading one of my textbooks, I hear two pairs of footsteps walk into the classroom together and sit at the desk next to mine. Parkinson smiles at me politely, tucking her long dark brown hair behind her ear as she takes out her textbook, ink and quill from her book bag. Malfoy just sits there next to her, not even acknowledging my presence, except I can see him staring at me from the corner of his eye.

What does he want with me?

Parkinson seems to notice as well as she looks at me and then back at Malfoy. Realisation covers her, what most people at Hogwarts say, 'goddess-like' features as she looks between Malfoy and I. Parkinson leans closer to Malfoy and whispers something to him and I pay closer attention, hoping it does not involve me. Malfoy turns to look at the two empty seats on my right. His eyes travel up to me and he quickly looks away, shaking his head at Parkinson, who merely sighs.

"Come on," I hear her hushed voice as she rises from her seat and walks over to me, Malfoy watching her closely.

Parkinson approaches me with a civilised smile. I notice how, when she looks at me, her eyes are no longer glaring and filled with hate. They now look almost as kind as Luna's ...

"Hermione, Draco and I were wondering if you would allow us to sit here," she said politely, pointing to the two empty chairs. "We noticed you looked a bit lonely. Oh, sorry, you don't mind if I call you Hermione, do you?"

I am shocked; bewildered. I stare at Parkinson for a moment, my mouth slightly ajar.

"Uh - sure, Par ... Pansy," I say awkwardly and watch as she smiles in appreciation.

She returns back to her desk to collect her things, Malfoy reluctantly following her actions. He almost has a shyness about him, and it simply confuses me even more. Malfoy being shy? Never would have guessed ...

"Would you like to sit next to Hermione, Draco?" Pansy asks as they both walk towards me.

Malfoy stops in his tracks, giving Pansy a warning look who simply smirks at him. Despite his obvious discomfort, Malfoy slouches in the chair next to mine, Pansy taking her seat straight afterwards.

I return back to my book, but cannot help but notice Malfoy sneaking glances at me every minute or so. He probably finds this _very_ uncomfortable just as much as I -

I mentally groan as more Slytherins enter the classroom, ruining the peaceful silence. I look up to see Malfoy's close friends Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini waltzing over to their seats, two giggly Slytherin girls following close behind who I recognise as Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode. Both girls wave at Pansy and Malfoy before their eyes travel to me. Greengrass furrows her eyebrows while Bulstrode's face scrunches up with disgust.

"I didn't know you were friendly with Granger," Greengrass says, surprisingly not in a nasty tone like I was expecting from the blonde witch.

"Draco," Bulstrode whines, "get away from the Mudblood, before you catch a disease -"

 _BANG!_

I almost shriek in fright at the loud sound that comes from my right. My eyes are wide as I stare at Malfoy's standing figure. He stood up so fast his chair flew and hit the wall behind us. His face is no longer pale, but a deep scarlet, his hands trembling and balled into fists. He is breathing very heavily and Pansy shoots out of her chair at his sudden outburst. She quickly takes his wrists and guides him out of the classroom, glaring at Bulstrode.

"Say another darn word as foul as that," she threatens, "and I will fucking slit your throat. Understand, _Bulstrode?_ "

"Whatever," Bulstrode scoffs, hiding her obvious fear.

As I watch Pansy rush out the classroom to catch up with Malfoy, I stare at the doorway for a long _long_ time. What had just happened has left me more confused than I have ever felt in my life ...

* * *

A/N: How did you like Hermione's POV. I really enjoyed writing it. I don't think it was as fun as writing in Draco's, I love writing his thoughts, but it was different in a good way. Hermione is and always will be my favourite character and, in a way, I feel it is slightly easier to write in her POV. I feel like we think the same and say similar things in similar situations, so it is a lot easier to think, "What would Hermione do?" Also, sometimes Draco can be a little unpredictable, so you have no idea what is going to happen until you type it out.

Anyways, please keep favouriting (Yes, I made that word up shhh) and reviewing, it really does make my mornings when I read my emails.

See you in the next chapter :)


	4. Chapter IV: The Potions Cupboard

A/N: I'm feeling _really_ creative at the moment so I am trying to make my chapters longer.

I'm not completely sure where this story is going. I have it all planned out but when I start writing it changes, do you know what I mean? I'm going through a bit of writers block at the moment however. I'm a bit stuck, but I'll get there eventually.

By the way, when I was writing this, Pansy's character is very different to the books, but I feel that the war has changed her, like it has many others. I also made some events happen during her school years, which I am sure are not canon, which helped shape the character in my story. There will be some examples of that in this chapter. To be completely honest, I feel the students whose parents were Death Eaters went through _a lot_ during the war, and I feel great sympathy for them, especially Draco and his friends.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, it was really fun to write, especially towards the end ;)

* * *

 **~ Chapter IV: The Potions Cupboard ~**

 _DRACO'S POV  
_

Millicent _fucking_ Bulstrode deserves to rot in the chambers of hell!

"Draco!"

Pansy is standing next to me as I lean against the wall of the empty dungeons, close to the Slytherin common room. I am so angry that every few seconds I am unknowingly punching the stone wall, hearing my knuckles crack. Thank Merlin the dungeons are currently empty.

"Just relax," Pansy tries to reassure me. "Gra - Hermione didn't seem too upset -"

"Well, she's fucking good at hiding it!" I shout at her, instantly regretting it when I see her wince, trembling when I raise my voice. "Pansy, I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have raised my voice."

Pansy sinks to the cold ground, covering her face in her knees.

Fuck, she is crying ...

Although Pansy now feels like the sister I never had, I've always felt _extremely_ awkward when girls cry.

I sit on the ground next to Pansy and wrap my arms around her, quiet sobs escaping her lips.

"Surely your father wasn't that terrifying?" I say, brushing her dark hair away from her face. "Surely he didn't mean to make you so sca-"

"He did," she whimpers. "H-he fucking did. He k-knew I was _t-terrified_ of him, that's how he w-would bribe me into d-doing things easily. Even w-when he wanted me to take the D-Dark M-Mark, when I refused ... well, you k-know the punishments I w-went t-through."

I nod sympathetically. I understand, in some ways, what Pansy is going through. Her father was very similar to mine ...

I hate accidentally reminding Pansy of her father. I was even scared of the man when the Parkinsons would visit the Manor during the summer, or even at Death Eater meetings when I was forced to pretend to get along with him. He was horrid!

"B-but, he's in Azkaban now," Pansy sniffs, wiping her tear stains from her finely contoured cheeks. "He - he can't hurt me, not anymore, not ever."

"Exactly," I try my hardest to smile, feeling rather uncomfortable with the uncommon gesture.

Standing up from the stone floor, I kindly help Pansy to her feat and brush off the traces of lint off my trousers. Pansy fans out of her skirt, picking at the dust at the back.

"Oh shit," she says as she turns to look at me, the recent events forgotten. "My makeup, Draco! Has it smudged? Do I look -?"

"You look fine, Pansy," I sigh. "Pretty as ever ..."

"Oh, I know," she smirks playfully.

I smirk back, glad to see the old Pansy is back.

"Come on," she says, taking my arm and leading me down the corridor, "before we're late -"

"Can we just skip?" I ask hopefully.

Pansy stops, turning to look at me.

"What?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "You don't want to sit next to your precious Hermione anymore?"

I glare at her furiously before burying my face in my hands.

"I should've never told you," I mumble angrily.

"I'm only teasing," she giggles.

"Besides, that's not the main reason," I say grumpily, "It's Bulstrode. I don't want to walk in there and get attacked by that fat a-"

"DRACO!" Pansy shrieks, slapping my arm. "That's not very nice!"

"Coming from you?"

"Okay, okay," she sighs. "I know I have commented about her weight - _once_ \- but I am trying to change. I know the way I talked to Bul - Millicent this morning does not exactly back me up, but at least I'm _trying._ "

I furrow my eyebrows.

"What's that supposed to mean, _Pansy?_ "

"I think you know exactly what it means," she says matter-of-factly.

"You want _me_ to _change?_ " I ask, almost horrified when she nods. "Fat chance ..."

She cannot be serious, can she?

"Just think about it, Draco," she says desperately. "A lot more people would like you and -"

"I don't want people to _like_ me," I almost snap, crossing my arms.

"What about Hermione?" she asks, looking at me intently.

"If you think you can use Granger to change me," I tell her, "you have never been more wrong in your life -"

"I'm not going to use her!" she says defensively, "I'm just going to show you how friendly I can be with her, because I'm being nice to her!"

"Fine," I say simply, "but you watch, Pansy. It won't work. I am not going to change the way I am for anybody. Not even Granger ..."

* * *

"Where did you get off to in Arithmancy, mate?" Theo asks as he leans back on the stall next to mine in the Potion's classroom, Blaise on my left as we wait for Professor Slughorn to begin the lesson.

"The bathroom," I lie, not taking my eyes away from the cover of my textbook.

"Why did you get so aggressive for?" Blaise asks as he pulls all kinds of _junk_ out of his book bag which is more like his private rubbish bin. "I mean ... when anyone ever insulted Granger before it never bothered you. You used to call her by that name as well -"

"Yes, but that was _before_ ," I tell him, thinking back to what Pansy said. "And plus, nobody should treat the Head Girl that way, despite her blood-status. Anyway, you're acting differently towards Granger too! You smile at her when you make eye contact -"

"Do you fancy her or something, Blaise?" Theo says jokingly, Blaise rolling his eyes.

"Don't be a dick," he says sharply.

"Don't worry, mate," Theo smirks, his sapphire eyes glistening. "I wouldn't blame you ..."

"You _what?_ " I yell, oblivious to the rest of the Slytherin's turning to stare at us.

"Come on," he says almost dreamily, "you have too agree, ever since the Yule Ball Granger has been a stunner."

My grip on my textbook becomes much tighter, my knuckles almost white. The nerve of him ...

"Astoria, what are you doing in here?" Pansy asks from behind me.

I turn to see Astoria Greengrass standing in the doorway. Her brunette strands fan down her back like a cape as she makes her way through the classroom, staring at no one but Blaise.

Blaise turns quickly and does not get a word in before Astoria attacks him with her lips.

"Astoria, what _are_ you doing in here?" I ask, repeating Pansy's question.

Astoria finally detaches herself from Blaise and sits up on the desk, Blaise leaning on her tanned, just-shaven legs.

"I wanted to say, 'Hi'," she tell us, as if the answer was obvious. "And the Slytherins in my year are boring! I much prefer to hang out with you guys!"

"Well, sorry, but you better leave before Slughorn catches you," I say almost sensibly.

"Kill joy," Blaise looks at me accusingly before turning back to Astoria. "See you tonight, then?"

Astoria hops of the desk and pecks Blaise on the lips, winking at his seductive smirk before leaving just before Slughorn enters. Lucky ...

I turn to see Theo's face scrunched up with disgust.

"What?" Blaise asks innocently.

"Blaise, you do understand that she's nearly _two years_ younger than you, right?" I ask him cautiously.

"You're just jealous because I can get a descent woman and you can't," he smirks, but it instantly drops when Theo and I attempt to hide our urges to laugh. "Look, you two might be the type of guys that bang anything with a set of breasts and a feminine voice, but I am better than that!"

"So, you think because you are the oldest out of the three of us," I say, trying to contain my laughter, "that you are more mature?"

"What I am _trying to say,_ " he says, "is that dating is far better than shagging any old slag. Don't get me wrong, shagging is amazing, but it is much better when you actually care about the person."

"Are you ill, Blaise?" Theo asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

I stop listening to Blaise and think for a moment. Maybe he does have a point; with random girls it _is_ great _,_ but maybe with ... Granger ...

I turn to look at the bookworm sitting at the very front next to Potter and Weaselbee, calmly reading the Potion's textbook, despite the ruckus around her. I watch as her fingers glide over the spine of the thick book, gently flipping the pages every minute or so.

I cannot help but wonder what else those fingers can do ...

 _Very_ inappropriate images flood my thoughts and I mentally scold myself, desperate to think of something - _anything_ \- different.

Blaise watches me quizzically as I shift uncomfortably in my stool, my palms growing sweaty.

Thank Merlin Slughorn decides to speak before Blaise can interrogate me ...

"Good morning, seventh years," Slughorn's voice echoes through the classroom, all eyes turning to him. "Today we are going to be making Cure for Boils. Yes, it is simple, but treat this as a recount for your N.E.W.T.S. I know there is a section in there about Healing Potions. There is no need for partners, I have enough supplies for you to complete this task individually. Before you begin, make sure you have fully read chapter twelve of your textbooks, you should find the procedure at the end. I will be in my office if you need anything. Seeing as you are my eldest students, I trust you not to burn the castle down ..."

Slughorn looks directly at Hermione while saying this last sentence.

 _Goody-Two-Shoes-Granger._

"Alright, get to work!" he smiles, clasping his hands together before sauntering out of the classroom, making sure to acknowledge Potter's presence first, _of course._

I look back at Granger and notice she is already setting up, seeing as she has probably read chapter twelve twenty times already.

Looking around, I notice nobody else is reading it, nor bothering to set up their cauldrons. This is my chance, while everybody is distracted, to collect the ingredients for the Wolfsbane Potion. I have completely forgotten what they all are, but Granger will help me, will she not? Well, she better ...

Sneakily walking over to the supply cupboard labelled _Potion Ingr. & Equip., _I quietly open the door and walk into the cramped cupboard, closing the door behind me.

I pull my wand out my front pocket.

" _Lumos,_ " I whisper.

The room illuminates at my command, and instantly I remember I forgot Granger. That's a first.

Great, now it is going to look extremely suspicious.

I slowly open the door, leaving a tiny crack I can just see through. I spot Granger's bushy hair almost immediately. I realise she is moving closer and closer to the door, inspecting the ingredients on the shelves next to it. Here is my chance.

I quickly open the door, snatch Granger by the arm and pull her into the cupboard, a quiet yelp escaping her lips.

Those little noises Granger makes drive me insane!

I lock the door behind her, making sure nobody can just walk straight in. The cupboard is so small Granger and I are pressed up against each other, our noses only millimeters away. I can feel the shape of her body pressed against me and I am so glad it is too dark to see how flushed I must look.

"Malfoy, what the devil are you doing?" Granger snaps, looking at me with a deathly glare.

Merlin, she is pretty damn fine when she is angry - _stop it!_

I mentally slap myself.

I do not respond at first, but instead notice how much better Granger looks up close. I watch how her honey irises shine, almost like flames, in the light my wand is producing and I have to stop myself from smiling at her.

I cannot help it! I just have to glance at those lips; those full, gorgeous lips. It does not exactly help that she is biting them too!

The desire to push her up against the wall and do wicked things to her is far to strong now. I have to get this over with before I lose control. Pathetic ...

"Uh - Granger," I begin to say, still speechless. Merlin, please help me! "I need you to tell me the ingredients ... for the Wolfsbane Potion."

"Did you not read about it?" she asks.

"You're a walking Encyclopedia, Granger," I smirk, 'so I didn't think it was necessary."

"Fine," she huffs angrily, rummaging through her pockets, pulling out a folded sheet of parchment. "I wrote the measurements and the method on there too."

"Genius, you are, Granger," I say teasingly, giving her a wink.

Granger merely glares at me before unlocking the door and walking straight out. Despite her irritated expression, I notice the light redness on her cheeks.

I have no idea what made me compliment her like that, winking at her too, but it felt good. _Really good._

 _'Sex-God' Draco Malfoy is back in action,_ I think with a triumphant smirk.

* * *

A/N: This chapter didn't turn out as big as I hoped but I feel like I should leave it here.

I'm planning on writing a lot about Pansy and Hermione's relationship and I want them to eventually become friends. I also think Pansy has a few tricks up her sleeve to convince Draco to change, involving his feelings for Hermione ;)

Anyways, remember to rate and review, and thank you to those who have x

See you soon with the next chapter :)


	5. Chapter V: Far Too Faulty

A/N: Oh my gosh, I cannot explain how bad I feel for not updating. I know writers block is not really an excuse but honestly I had no idea what to do. But I'm back, and thank you so much for being patient. I have managed to plan out majority of this fanfic and I am really happy about it hehe ;)

I tried to get this chapter to at least 2,000 words, seeing as a lot of my chapters are quite small. Please let me know if you prefer longer or shorter chapters. You might need to read the last part of the previous chapter to understand what is going on.

Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

 **~ Chapter V: Far Too Faulty ~**

 _HERMIONE'S POV  
_

I cannot remember the last time I ever felt this embarrassed; I was cramped in a small potions cupboard with no one but _Malfoy!_ And he has the nerve to compliment me and wink at me? Who does he think he is?

I try to hide how flushed my cheeks are during the rest of the lesson, blaming it on the potion when Harry had asked me. I see Malfoy smirking at me, I merely glare back when ever I caught his eye.

Although the incident in the potions cupboard was beyond awkward, it could have been worse. Yes, I would have to be tortured to insanity to believe Malfoy is unattractive. He is definitely not drop-dead gorgeous, or even dating material, but only a fool would view him differently to me. Even if I find him attractive, it really does not matter. There _is_ a difference between finding someone attractive and being attracted to someone anyway.

As I rush back to the common room from dinner this evening, I change out of my robes into a simple but comfortable outfit; black leggings and an oversized, maroon woollen jumper. I fix my hair into a messy bun and with a flick of my wand my makeup is removed. I make my way back down the stone steps, greeted at the bottom by Malfoy, who appears to be very drained.

Maybe tonight is not the best night to ask questions about what happened in Arithmancy ...

"You look exhausted," I comment, trying not to sound rude.

"Thanks for the compliments, Granger," he says irritably, rubbing his eyes.

A pinch the bridge of my nose with a sigh. I am not in the mood for his _sarcastic_ remarks tonight.

"All I mean is if you're too tired to do this," I explain, "we can do it tomorrow or -"

"No," he almost groans, "I want to do it now."

"Alright," I say, not entirely convinced with his answer. "Can I have the ingredients then?"

With an effortless flick of his wand, a bundle of ingredients appear on the table to my right, as well as a small cauldron on top of a stand.

"Thank you," I say as civil as I can managed.

Malfoy just stares at me blankly. He truly looks _very_ exhausted.

I have noticed Malfoy's sleeping patterns have been off lately, the same can be said for me. In the bathroom cupboards I have spotted Firewhisky bottles on dozens of occasions; some empty, some never opened. Malfoy's sudden interest in drinking leaves me feeling slightly nervous. It would not surprise me if he was using the alcohol to drink away his problems, but, for some reason, I hope that is not the truth.

"Granger, quite staring ..."

"S-Sorry," I cannot help but stutter.

Walking over to the dining table, I point my wand at the cauldron half empty with water.

" _Incendio._ "

At my command, sparks erupt from my wand and the water begins to boil. I turn to look at Malfoy sitting on the coach watching me, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Malfoy, go and get some sleep!"

"No," the blonde says stubbornly, looking down at his feet.

"Malfoy," I say again, sternly.

I walk over to the Slytherin, whose eyes travel up to meet mine, his grey pools resembling distressing storm clouds with hints of blue sky seeping through.

"I won't pretend to understand why you seem stressed out," I begin softly, "but -"

"Like you would care anyway," he says sharply before he makes his way up the stone steps, leaving me alone in the common room.

* * *

"More ingredients wasted," I sigh as I pour the thin substance down the bathroom sink, attempting to scrub off the burnt access on the sides of the rusty old cauldron.

For what feels like the fifth hundredth time, the Wolfsbane Potion has been turning out faulty; either the wrong colour, consistency, or I have not been able to focus and measured the ingredients wrong, leading it to burn onto the sides of the cauldron.

Out of all the thinking I did to finally agree to do this favour for Malfoy, I never believed a potion could be this difficult to achieve. Perhaps Malfoy was right? No, I will succeed, eventually ...

Despite spending the past two evenings in Malfoy's presence, I still have not managed to ask him what his behaviour on Friday in Arithmancy was all about. I mean, it is not like the word does not offend me anymore, and it is nice that people will stick up for me, but Malfoy? And Pansy as well?

I am not sure what to think of Pansy. No, I do not mind being on first-name basis but treating me like we have been friends forever I find quite strange. Very strange ...

Not that I am suspicious, but I find it quite unlike Pansy, from what I know of her already. In some ways however, I understand she is trying to change. In the _Daily Prophet_ not long after the war, in the list of Death Eaters sent to Azkaban Mr Parkinson was mentioned along with his crimes and cruelty to his family. Perhaps becoming friends with Pansy is a good thing, it might help the troubled witch.

"One more try," I tell myself as I return back to the common room, refilling the cauldron with water.

I turn around almost immediately as shuffling footsteps make their way down the steps; Malfoy is standing at the bottom, furrowing his eyebrows at me. I look away at once, noticing he is in nothing but a pair of baggy grey pants so low I can see his V Line.

I did not realise how balmy it is in here until now. Perhaps I should open a window or two ...

"What on earth are you doing, Granger?"

"What do you think?" I almost snap.

Gosh, I must be tired to resort to sarcasm.

"Now who's the one exhausted?" Malfoy smirks, walking over and slouching in a chair, crossing his legs up onto the table.

I have never been more disappointed with myself in my life; I just _cannot_ look away from him. My eyes are glued to his body. His chest is hairless and pale, but a pleasant kind of pale, almost glowing like the moon. His body is toned and looks very strong (must be from all the Quidditch), but he is not too muscular. He looks rather ... nice.

Stop it, Hermione!

"Something wrong, Granger?" he asks me. I look up to see his lips forming into a sneaky smirk. "Or as you just enjoying the view?"

"Oh yeah," I say, my voice filled with irony, "because you are so devastatingly flawless!"

Malfoy almost seems impressed with my sarcasm resembling Salazar Slytherin himself. If it were possible, his smirk grew bigger and I swear I catch a glimpse of warmth in his cold irises.

"Anyways," he dismisses. "Don't tell me you have been working on this potion since -"

"Since eight thirty," I interrupt. "And yes, I know it is nearly one ..."

"You should stop, Granger," he says, standing up, "at least for tonight."

"What? Why?"

"Granger, you're becoming obsessed," the taller boy sighs, running his fingers throw his hair.

"I'm not obsessed -!"

"You care more about that potion than your _bloody_ school work!"

I go to retort back but instantly close my mouth, staring up at him. Malfoy does have a point; my homework has not crossed my mind at all these past few days, the potion seems to be all I think about now.

"You're going to fall behind in your grades and -"

"But you said you were going to help me, remember?"

Not that I need the help ...

"Yes, in return for making the potion -"

"Well let me make it then!"

Draco groans angrily before retreating to the stairs.

"Whatever," he says, defeated, "but you better not be out here still in the morning."

I return back to the bubbling cauldron as Malfoy slams his door behind him, telling myself again to try one last time then go straight to bed, regardless if I fail or not.

* * *

"Hermione! How are you?" I look up from my breakfast and my eyes fall upon the kind features of Luna Lovegood taking a seat across from me. "We have not spoken in so long!"

"I'm well, thanks," I smile politely.

"And you, Ginny?"

Luna's dreamy, picton blue eyes become unfocused and almost oblivious of her surroundings all of a sudden, as if she is watching something invisible to Ginny and I.

"Not bad, myself," Ginny says, scooping up the last of her porridge.

"How is the _Quibbler_ going, Luna?" I ask her, taking a sip of my pumpkin juice.

"Oh, swimmingly!" she says enthusiastically. "This week there is an article on Pygmy Puffs and how they make great companions! Daddy let me write it myself!"

"That's wonderful, Luna!" I say kindly as a brown owl lands in front of me, today's issue of the _Daily Prophet_ in its black beak. I take the wrapped up parchment and drop a sickle in the owl's knitted pouch before it flies off.

Eagerly I unravel the newspaper and scan the front cover.

"Anything interesting?" Ginny asks.

"No," I sigh, "just about how the Ministry speaks of Harry like a God -"

"Oh, let me read!" Ginny says, taking the parchment and scanning the front cover with a smirk. "I find it _so_ amusing when they discuss how brave 'The Chosen One' is!"

I giggle as Ginny fakes a smitten expression, hugging the picture of Harry close to her chest.

"You might find the _Quibbler_ much more entertaining for you, Hermione," Luna says as she hands me a new copy for this week. "There is an article about Runes on page seven, you seem to be very interested in those."

"Thank you, Luna," I say, shoving the _Quibbler_ in my bag, but my smile drops when I hear Ginny's irritated voice.

"What do you two want?"

I look up and see Pansy smiling at me, ignoring Ginny entirely. Blaise Zabini is standing next to her, looking down at the ground.

Pansy bumps his shoulder and Blaise lets out a very grumpy, "Morning ..."

"I - _we_ were just wondering if we could join you three," says Pansy, "our table isn't as cheery as yours looks this morning."

I look over at the other side of the Great Hall and notice most of the Slytherins are very quiet, except for Astoria Greengrass who is cramped between a group of sixth year boys who seem _very_ interested in her.

"Of course," I awkwardly match Pansy smile as her and Zabini sit next to Luna.

I turn to look at Ginny who stares at me confusingly.

"Is everything ... alright?" she asks me, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Yes, Ginny," I say assuringly.

"Right, well ... I'm going back to the common room to find Harry, I have to show him this article. You don't mind if I take it, do you?"

"No, of course not," I tell the red-head as she stands up, tossing her bag over her shoulder and exiting the Great Hall.

" _Is_ everything okay?" Pansy inquires.

"Why wouldn't it be?" I ask her back. "Anyway, how are you both?"

A small smile brightens Pansy's elegant features at my attempt to be civil, but I am shocked when Zabini answers first.

"If Astoria wasn't ignoring me," the Slytherin tells me with his magnificent accent, "then I would be fine - ow!"

Luna had leaned across the table and flicked the tip of Zabini's nose, who starts cursing in Italian.

"What was that for?" Blaise says furiously, covering his nose with his hand.

"My apologies," Luna says sympathetically, "but it was necessary; your temper was rising."

"So?" says Pansy, glancing at me with question for a moment.

"Wrackspurts can cause bad temper in some people," she explains, twirling a blonde curl in her fingertips. "A way to get rid of them quickly is to think of positive thoughts. A flick on the nose can frighten the creatures -"

Zabini sniggers, "What a load of bull-"

"What are Wackspirts?" Pansy asks, interrupting her Slytherin classmate.

"Wrackspurts," Luna corrects. "A Wrackspurt is an invisible creature who floats through your ears and makes your brain go fussy, or sometimes they can cause your nose to swell, on rare occasions however. In most people they cause daydreams or negative thoughts and memories, but in more ... _eccentric_ others they can cause bad temper or jealously."

"I'm eccentric?" Zabini scoffs.

Luna appears to not hear Zabini's comment, or simply ignores it.

"If he starts becoming unresponsive or has loss of energy," Luna explains to Pansy, "gently flick his left ear three times."

"With pleasure," Pansy smirks at Zabini's glare.

* * *

I glance down at my scarlet and gold watch; _9:17._

After patrols this evening, Malfoy and I have made an arrangement to start my 'tutoring' lessons. Even though I have not successfully made the potion yet, I think he is trying to take my mind off it.

I would definitely _not_ call it tutoring, Malfoy is simply guiding me in the right direction to achieving all Outstandings again.

"Have you got down all my notes?" Malfoy asks me for the fifth time in the past ten minutes as I hurriedly scribble down every known fact to man about Counter-Curses.

"Yes, yes, almost," I say, feeling immediate tension in my head.

It makes me almost embarrassed to think I seem dependent on Malfoy with my grades. I do not even remember when I starting becoming so slack with my school work! I do not want to admit it but ... it is definitely the potion. It is all I can think about and, I never thought I would say this, but I would rather work on the potion than do my school work.

Maybe Malfoy is right, maybe I _am_ getting a bit too involved in it. What on earth has gotten into me -?

"Granger!"

I turn to look at Malfoy and notice his stare is almost ... worried?

"Sorry," I tell him, "I was just thinking ..."

"You want to get back to making the potion, don't you?" he says, nodding his head as the answer is quite obvious.

"Don't you want me to anymore?"

"Yes," the blonde explains, "but I don't want you becoming obsessed with it, Granger! What happened to being obsessed with school instead -?"

"I don't know!"

A thousand tears flood my eyes and Malfoy notices them straight away. I swear I see a flicker of warmth in his eyes again, but with a blink of an eye, it is gone again.

"I don't know, okay?" I say, sounding almost desperate. "I've just .. changed!"

Malfoy says nothing, all he does is watch me; he seems to be lost in thought.

"I can continue this on my own now," I say, pointing to all the old books spread out onto the coffee table separating us. "Thank you for the help, Malfoy."

The blonde appears to snap back into reality, nodding at me before backing his bag and rushing back up the stone steps.

For the next half an hour, all I am doing is glazing at the empty cauldron on the other side of the room, contemplating my current activity.

Bugger it!

I close all my books and shove them in my bag before I walk over to the storage cupboard and pull out Malfoy's rucksack with all the ingredients, a set of brass scales and other utensils. I return back to the cauldron and fill it with water again. As the water begins to boil at my command, I begin my usual routine I have been doing _every time;_ I weigh out the correct amount of Aconite, gently dice it, add a quarter at a time and stir anti-clockwise once and clockwise twice. I repeat this important process three times, trying to be as accurate as possible seeing as Aconite is the most important ingredient. After letting it boil for fifteen minutes, reading information about the potion as I wait, I add a drizzle of Onion Juice and six Russian's Dragons Nails before stirring it clockwise three times. After leaving that for five minutes, I add the final ingredient, Octopus Powder, and stir anti-clockwise twenty-five times then clockwise twelve times.

I watch with caution as the potion turns from white to mint green to sky blue as I continue to stir. I am so close, but it should be midnight blue by now.

Just as I start losing hope, the thick liquid turns into a dark charcoal with dark blue undertones. It is the closest I have gotten so far and I find myself squealing with excitement.

Packing away all the ingredients and utensils, I let the potion sit and cool. Eventually I pour the potion into five small phials, label them and stack them on the table in front of me with a great smile.

"What's all the squealing about?"

I almost jump out of my skin.

"Do you have to keep doing that?" I shout as I watch Malfoy waltz down the stairs.

"Doing what?" he smirks, walking towards me.

"Making me jump ..."

Malfoy completely ignores my answer as his eyes rest on the stack of Wolfsbane Potion behind me, his eyes glowing with excitement.

I step out of the way as he walks over to the table, examining one of the small phials in his slender fingers.

"Well?" I ask him, looking at every emotion that reaches his face. "I've finally done it, haven't I? I told you I would! It's the right colour, consistency - everything! I was reading and it says it should smell like -"

"I don't mean to burst your bubble, Granger," he says slowly, "but it's not the right colour."

"What? Yes, it is! Look!"

I pull a dictionary off one of the bookshelves and look for the correct colour, handing it to Malfoy who merely shoves it away.

"I'm not an idiot, Granger!" he says, placing the phial back onto the pile.

"If you weren't an idiot you would know the potion is midnight blue!" I say back, feeling quite agitated.

"It's not midnight blue!" he fights back. "It's black with dark blue undertones!"

"No, it's midnight blue!"

Malfoy glares at me for a moment, until suddenly his face softens.

"You were saying that it is supposed to smell like ...?

"Aconite, yes?"

"Why don't you smell it then," he says matter-of-factly.

I pick up the phial and pop open the cork. I breath in slowly and at first it smells of nothing.

Dammit, Hermione!

Suddenly, waves and waves of Aconite fill my nose and the sensation feels like acid seeping down all the way to my throat.

I look up, my vision hazy as I make out Malfoy's figure standing in front of me, looking at me curiously.

"Granger?"

The last thing I remember is the phial slipping from my fingertips, its contents spilling over the carpet as I fall into a strong pair of arms.

* * *

I made it to roughly 3,300 words! At least it's more than I thought :)

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger but that is what keeps the suspense going!

Remember to keep reviewing, please, it means everything to me!

See you in the next chapter!


	6. Chapter VI: Madam Pomfrey

A/N: Hey everybody! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! After almost a year, I am finally back to writing this fanfiction. I just wanted to thank you all so much for your support and your patience this past year, and I really am sorry for leaving it this long. I had turned my interest to another Dramione fanfiction I am going to post on here after this one is finished. It will hopefully be longer, more in depth and more in character and true to the original story. I have decided to not give up on this story and keep it alive, as I really do like the idea and do not want to throw it away.

Once again, thank you for all of your patience and support! I hope you enjoy :)

P.S. While re-reading this fanfiction, I notice there is some content very similar to other fandoms etc. and I just wanted to point out that was accidental. Thank you!

* * *

 **~ Chapter VI: Madam Pomfrey ~**

 _DRACO'S POV_

"Granger?"

I catch the intoxicated girl before she hits the floor. I expect to fall back as well, but I never thought Granger was so light weight.

"Granger!" I shout over and over again, gently shaking her shoulders. "Granger, wake up! Come on!"

Fuck …

I react as quickly as I can; I scoop her into my arms and run as fast as my legs will take me, out through the portrait whole, along the seventh floor corridor to the Hospital Wing. Thanking Merlin it is on the same floor!

I push through the Hospital Wing doors, I do not care about any other patients, I do not care about who is sleeping, all that matters to me now is Granger.

"Madam Pomfrey!" I yell, feeling extremely panicked.

"Mr Malfoy, keep your voice –"

Madam Pomfrey stops dead when she sees Granger clinging onto me, slowly falling in and out of consciousness.

"What on earth has happened?" she gasps as I gently lay Granger on the closest vacant bed.

All Granger does is groan slightly, her eyes twitching under her lids every minute or so. I cannot stand I am so shocked and I fall onto the nearest chair, burying my face in my hands.

"Mr Malfoy," says Madam Pomfrey, surprisingly calmly.

"It's my fault," I whisper almost immediately.

I cannot say much, my voice box almost feels broken.

"I cannot aid Miss Granger without knowing what happened," the older woman says as she begins searching through cupboards and cupboards of supplies.

"She – she made a potion … and she checked the scent to make sure it wasn't faulty … next thing I knew she fainted …"

"She will be okay, Mr Malfoy," says Madam Pomfrey, sighing with relief. "She has just been over intoxicated. I should be able to wake her up in just a moment. She only needs some simple remedies."

I keep my eyes locked on Granger, I have never felt more responsible in my entire life, and especially for something which is not mine …

Madam Pomfrey walks over to Granger's bed and draws the curtains around us. She looks at me, as if to ask if I am staying. When I nod, she fully closes the curtains and grabs her wand from her pocket. With a few enchantments, Granger's eyes spring open. She sits up on the bed, gasping for air.

"There, there, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey rubs her back before passing her a small cup filled with a dull teal potion.

"Wh-what is this?" Granger asks, observing the strange substance.

For once Granger seems to _not_ know something …

"Antidote for Common Poisons," Madam Pomfrey answers. "Drink it all up, love."

Granger gulps down the potion, squinting at the unpleasant taste.

"And this last one, dear; Dreamless Sleep Potion."

"Why do I –?"

"You need to rest, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey says sternly. "Your body is obviously very exhausted if it only took a few sniffs of Aconite to poison you."

I look up at Madam Pomfrey.

"How did you –?"

"I smelt it on her clothes," Madam Pomfrey states. "Now, drink."

Granger followers her instructions, gulping down the purple liquid before Madam Pomfrey throws the covers over her, tucking in the sides.

As Madam Pomfrey walks out to the other side of the curtains, Granger turns to look at me and almost jumps with surprise.

"Malfoy?" her voice is very weak and croaky. "What – what happened?"

"Don't you remember?" I ask, moving closer to her in my seat.

Granger shakes her head, propping herself up on her elbow to look up at me.

"All I remember," she says, "is checking the scent of the potion …" I nod for her to continue when she trails off. "… and I remember falling and bracing myself for the impact, but I don't remember getting hurt."

"I …" I clear my throat. "I caught you and brought you hear."

Granger looks quite taken back, not surprisingly seeing the way I have treated her these past seven years.

"Oh … " she says, laying her head on her pillow. She does in fact look exhausted. "Thank you, Draco."

My eye dart to look at her, but hers are already closed. She did not just say ... _Did she?_

"I'll – uh – let you sleep," I say awkwardly before standing up from my chair and walking outside of the curtains.

Madam Pomfrey turns to look at me after she closes the glass cupboard door.

"Miss Granger will be at good health in the morning," she informs me, noticing the concern I am finding _very_ difficult to hide.

I nod, turning to walk out when I look back at the elder woman, shocking myself when I smile gratefully and say, "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," before walking back to the common room.

I do not know why I did it, maybe Pansy _is_ right, maybe it is not such a 'sin' to change a little. Still, that does _not_ mean I will …

Finally, I walk back into the cosy common room, make my way up the stone steps, close my door behind me and slide under the sheets.

Despite knowing Granger is okay, I know this is my entire fault. If I had not have asked her to do this for me, she would be improving her grades by now, she would be safely sleeping in her room or calmly reading a book by the fireplace down stairs, she would not be sick in the Hospital Wing.

I cannot sleep tonight. I am tossing and turning, sheets on, sheets off – it is torture!

I groan with frustration as I sit up in bed.

Stuff it!

I jump out of bed and saunter out of my room and down the steps. The small flame in the fireplace is burning still and the spilled potion is still damp on the carpet. With a flick of my wand, the mess is cleaned and I sit myself in the closest armchair to the fire, warming myself up. On the side table next to me lays a small pile of Granger's books; _Tales of Beedle to Bard, Hogwarts: a History,_ and _Magical Drafts and Potions._

I pick up the heaviest and largest book, _Hogwarts: a History,_ the book Granger never keeps quiet about. I start flipping through, and suddenly all I can smell is parchment and a familiar smell of … vanilla and cinnamon?

Granger …

For years, vanilla and cinnamon is all I smell in the love potion, Amortentia, and I did not realise until I began living with the Head Girl where the smell was coming from. In the shower, her shampoo is _Vanilla Bean Bliss_ , and the cinnamon could possibly be a natural scent? Whatever it is, or where ever it comes from, all I know is it dazes me.

"For Merlin's sake," I sigh, cursing myself for having to think of Granger _non-stop._

I do not realise I have fallen asleep until I am woken to the sound of the portrait door closing the following morning. I turn my head to see Granger walking up the stone steps.

"Granger, wait!"

I shoot out my chair, and walk up to her. Granger still looks quite drained, but she still manages to stand tall, well … still much shorter for me anyhow.

"How … how are you feeling?" I ask awkwardly.

"I've felt better," she says, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Did Madam Pomfrey explain anything?" I inquire. "Is it serious?"

"Why are you so eager, Malfoy?" says Granger with curiosity. "Is it because you want to know if I am still capable of making the potion?"

"For Merlin's sake, I'm not using you, Granger," I say defensively, "if that's what you're thinking."

"No," she states. "As a matter-of-fact I am still perfectly capable."

"Good," I almost sigh.

"But, unfortunately, I do not work for users," she says before walking up the steps.

"Wait – what?" I ask desperately, following her up the steps. "Granger, what is that supposed to mean …"

"I didn't mean it! I …" she sighs, pinching her nose with stress. "It's too dangerous, Malfoy! I don't know if I _want_ to do it anymore. As much as I would love to help, I could have killed you!"

"Okay, okay," I say, trying to hide my disappointment. "I won't tutor you anymore then …"

"What are you trying to say?" Granger asks, her voice raising slightly and I know she is starting to get angry. "Are you saying if I don't make that potion you won't help me –?"

"I thought you said you don't need help," I hide my smirk, knowing what I said was not very nice. "And maybe I am … why does it matter?"

"It matters because you cannot _blackmail_ me to –"

"I'm not blackmailing you, Granger!" I shout. 'I'm just ending the deal?'

"Ending the deal?" she fumes. "Fine then, Malfoy … our deal is over!"

Before I can get another word in, Granger slams her door in my face.

Fucking bullocks!

I slam my own door behind me, throw my dressing gown angrily and sit on the side of my bed. I hear the head of the shower begin to run as Granger locks both the bathroom doors.

"Fine," I think aloud, getting angrier by the second, "if that's the way you want it, Granger, than the deal _is_ over … I'll make the damn potion myself!"

I make my way back down the stairs and place the small, rusty old cauldron, brass scales and the rucksack filled with ingredients on the dining table. I grab the small samples of Granger's potion and with a flick of my wand they are empty. I then place the little glass vials back in the cupboard.

I lean myself over the cauldron, clearing my throat as I flip open one of her potion books.

 _I can do this myself._

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please keep reviewing and favouriting if you did. Your support means the world to me!

Hopefully I will be uploading again soon! If I do not before the new year, I hope your new year is splendid and filled with joy :)


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